


Chasing Highs

by hoxadrine



Category: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice (Video Game), 恋与制作人 | Liàn Yǔ Zhì Zuò Rén (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasizing, Gen, Jealousy, Kinda dark Gavin, No Luciens were harmed in the making, Obsessive Behavior, Sexual Fantasy, Slight spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 05:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoxadrine/pseuds/hoxadrine
Summary: She follows after one certain insufferable shady guy in a lab coat. And Gavin follows after her.





	Chasing Highs

**Author's Note:**

> First MLQC piece! I'm not having even remotely enough of Gavin content, so of course, I had to do it myself.  
>  **Please read the tags for TWs!** Also, let me know if you need more tags to be added. One can never be sure.

Routine work has sadly set Gavin on his way to _that_ Bioscience Research Center he very much wants to do nothing about. All the more so, due to this especially shady guy that has gotten way too acquainted with her as of late. The true reasons behind this all too sudden new neighbor of hers and their following friendship of sorts may currently escape Gavin’s knowledge, but they won’t for long if he has something to say on the matter.

What does not escape him as he approaches the building—quite _coincidentally_ so—is the presence of the object of half his current concerns, smiling down at one of his presumed female students, chit-chatting at the front door. To Gavin’s opinion, the blonde girl in the lab coat looks pretty much like the next _victim_ of that insufferable relaxed smile and nonchalant pose before her rather than a hardworking apprentice, but what does he know.

Although it has a lot to do with her too over the top way of drawl the word ‘Professor’ sultrily over her tongue every five seconds.

Not like Gavin pays any mind about, that’s for sure. In fact, the guy’s neighbor could get something good from her acquaintance’s all too smug mannerisms, and even learn not to rely on him that much. You can’t be a playboy _and_ trustworthy at the same time, that just doesn’t match up, and it’s a fact.

… Right? _Right. Damn straight._

Despite being consciously aware her affairs and what not are most certainly any of his business, Gavin can’t really help with secretly entertaining the idea or her giving him the cold shoulder, biting the inside of his cheek so to hide his own amusement. Stuffing his hands on his denim pockets and palming his phone, he saunters by to the entrance, purposefully avoiding the pair.

To his relief, the scientist is already on his way out, heading to his car. Glad for having eluded a nuisance with little effort, Gavin pulls his phone out and scrolls on some apps as he enters the building, barely mindful to do the daily check on his GPS tracker before getting his business done with.

Until he has to click the refresh button—thrice.

_She’s here too…? What the—?_

Gavin’s eyes flutter closed, relying upon the breeze to guide him to her location, more confident in his element than his self-awareness. A gingko leaf bracelet jingles ever so slightly, and he dares peeking past the glass door.

He doesn’t truly need to look to know it’s her from the start—he can feel her when he becomes one with the wind all too effortlessly, all too _unequivocally_ —donning that trademark blouse of hers, her chestnut locks loose and free. Perhaps too free, doing nothing but enticing him to touch it through the gentlest gust.

His heart skips a beat, a sense of calmness washing over him, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It’s become a quite familiar feeling, and very few things in Gavin’s life had soothed his soul as much as the sight of her, unharmed and well.

For some reason, she hasn’t dropped off her cab, leaving him to ponder on about meeting her at the entrance, fidgeting a little. Should he risk it, though? There’s a chance he might come across as too dense for her liking. Plus, Gavin had just flown off her office not longer than an hour ago. She’s going to get tired of seeing his face real soon if he keeps pushing on encounters.

But then she hushes at the driver, pointing insistently at the other car about to leave parking.

“Follow that car!”

Gavin stammers for a full second, realization dawning upon him. Regardless, he doesn’t even bother to take a moment to reconsider what he’s doing, already out of the building and dashing back to his bike, interview and work be damned. The engines roar to life, and then he’s out after her.

_So much for telling her not to tail people. What the hell is she thinking?_

The cab comes to its first stop at a flower shop, from where the scientist saunters out not long after, carrying a bouquet of flowers. Then, the two vehicles keep going while Gavin follows from half a street away, procuring to keep his distance as he spots the guy entering a restaurant. There is where she finally drops out and leaves the poor cab driver be, disappearing behind the doors, skirt fluttering in her hurry.

A full hour goes by, full on anxiety creeping up Gavin’s skin, fiddling with his phone and doing his best not to drop her a call. ‘ _Where are you?’_ He thinks of texting her, but sounds annoying from his part. _‘Is everything alright?’_ No, it’s too suspicious. _‘Why are you so pent up on tailing this guy? Is there something I should know? You think he’s an evol?’_ Ugh, no.

 _‘Hey I know we’ve already seen each other today, but—’_ Tap, tap, tap. Delete.

 _‘May I ask what are you doing in that restaurant?’_ No, blowing his cover is far from a wise way to go.

 _‘I saw you following that scientist. I have to tell you, I’ve got a bad feeling about that one—‘_ Nope, and most definitely not if he intends to not look like a creep.

‘ _I’m worried about you…’_

By the time he wins over the urge of texting her and finally manages to put his phone down, the last remnants of dusk are passing over the skies, giving way to a tranquil night. Finally, the guy in the lab coat leaves the restaurant and heads back to his car, but against Gavin’s prediction, she appears outside not that far behind him, all too soon for be keeping up with her cover game.

To his surprise, they begin talking amicably by the parking lot, and as the two of them smile at each other, Gavin can only frown at the sickeningly sweet scene. What could they be doing? Is he asking for an explanation to her all too obvious two-hour stalking? Or is she still trying to figure him out? What is she even hoping to achieve?

His breath catches in his throat, torn with the impulsive urge of interceding between those two or remain hidden. What if she’s in actual danger? What if she’s being threatened? Everything about that insufferable scientist screams about how shady he is, from his unnerving smile to the narrowing of his eyes, ice cold and all too secretive. He could very much be threatening her on something unbeknownst to Gavin.

But then, a sharp tang prompts his heart to drop onto the very floor, his hard frown giving way to genuine dismay. Gavin freezes like a statue, perched atop his bike, unable to tear his gaze away as the guy hands her the same bouquet of centauries he got from the flower shop. And so, he realizes the stark truth.

_They were… having a date…_

A pretty blush tints her cheeks pink, but his world has gone too dark for him to appreciate it, turning on the engine and speeding away as fast as traffic allows him.

* * *

Almost to the weekend, Gavin has gathered his wits on and managed to recover his composure, deciding to pay her a visit at her place and face his concerns head on.

The last two days without texts or life signs from her part had left an uncomfortable itch in him, though he attributes that to her being swamped with work as she had been lately. Bearing in mind the tracker and the wind currents led him to either her office or her apartment, it’s been so far the most reasonable assumption.

 **You (09:55 PM):** Are you home? I’m close to your place. Can we meet?

It’s a partial lie, given he’s already taking the elevator up, but considering it is kind of late at night it’s only polite to give notice. He can always wait anyway.

The elevator music of her building is truly annoying—why does it even have music? It’s not a company building!—though for some reason, awfully convenient at the moment, managing to steel his nerves somewhat as it nears her floor. As the doors open, however, his phone still shows no tick on the message, leaving him to awkwardly lounge on her hallway for some time.

Reaching her door, Gavin notices the lights of her place are off. _Huh, has she fallen asleep already?_ He’s checked on the gingko tracker before coming over, and the app has shown her at the very same spot as always. Either way, now that he’s there, he might as well at least knock and wait.

And then, a rustle of sheets followed by the softest of moans sweep right into his ear, prompting him to an abrupt stop.

_No. No, it can’t be…_

He stills at the door, fist in the air, beginning to shake in the struggle to contain a burst of jealousy that barely can keep it within; boiled up but caged for all these past days, but now pouring out of his body in uncontrollable waves of frustration and anger. So to be sure, Gavin checks the GPS track again, to no relief from its part as it reveals the same spot from fifteen minutes ago. Meaning, he’s not imagining things; she indeed is inside, with the lights off, and there’s movement coming from her bedroom.

Dread seeps into him at the bare thought of finding _him_ inside her apartment, teeth grinding as he summons his entire will _not_ to imagine what could very likely be going on over there.

And to further add to his despair, a shy mewl that is unequivocally hers whisks below her door, the sound brought from what he senses as an open slit of her window.

“Nng… Oh—”

 _She’s with someone. She’s with_ him. _It has to be him, for sure—!_

Has the scientist found out about her stalking or had she managed to come up with an excuse for that? Regardless of what it is—and for the looks of it—the guy seemed to have managed to pull that up in his favor, luring her into his mysterious and seductive net. Is she glad for pursuing him, though? Has she found the answers she was looking for?

Or was… _that outcome,_ just what she was hoping to accomplish?

Feeling like bursting up in flames if he remains a second longer, Gavin drops a punch onto the elevator button, seeing himself out as fast as a closed up space can bring him.

A slight sheen of sweat covers his forehead, feeling sick all in a sudden, stomach churning and bile clinging to the back of his throat like wanting to puke in the middle of the elevator on its way down. It feels like the world is spinning under his feet. And yet, no matter how much Gavin wants to erase the picture of those two smiling at each other that dreadful evening, all his cursed mind does is pulling up more and more possible scenarios that may or may not be currently happening.

Is she happy for it, though? To have him over at her flat?

Maybe they were dating all this time, or just having a random hookup—although he never considered she would be into the latter. None of the chances are quite certain considering the late hour, but one fact still stands, and by the _sound_ of it, they totally seemed to be having a good time.

Is he treating her well, by the way? Wait a moment—

How would she _like_ to be treated?

Thick clouds are rolling up the sky by the time Gavin manages to get on the street, the rising breeze and his feet pulling him on their own accord. Does she prefer to be embraced, tucked gently into her lover’s arms, or is she rather more into a kind of rougher treatment? If he is to guess, then he’d go for the former. Although, would she actually like to be pulled against the door, her legs wrapped around his waist, her neck lavished, peppered, nipped?

Would he be grabbing a fistful of her hair and tugging it, or winding his fingers between her locks and massaging her scalp? Most importantly, what would _she_ be doing at that? Would she sigh ever so softly at the feeling of his lips closing on her earlobe, yearning for all the sweet nothings he’d whisper into her ear?

To be frank, she seems to be more of the squirming type, doing her best to keep her mewls from spilling off her mouth, but completely failing at it. It’s very likely she would become flustered to no end, her toes curling in both pleasure and in the effort of keeping some composure. And she’s _so beautiful_ when she blushes, all the more so when she’s warm and breathless in his arms, worrying her lower lip to not smile so hard.

Just how would she like it, _God,_ does she like it hard or gentle or—

Gavin rubs harshly at his face, even slaps his own cheek for good measure, but the conjured pictures are still there, clawing at his mind, threatening to consume whatever remains of his sanity. The very least he needs right now is to become obsessed with her, not when they’ve just found each other—not when he _finally_ did—after so damn long.

Rampant jealousy and mindless curiosity is one thing, but this, this goes beyond any acceptable standards.

No. It’s still wrong, so damn wrong, and _infuriating_ at that. How do they get along or even connect, aside from one single interview for her TV show? What does she find so interesting, so presumably alluring about him to the point of flat out stalking the guy?

But the rustling of the trees only make him recall the faint rustle of her sheets, and Gavin’s feet suddenly propel him into the air, swaying aimlessly across the back of her building with the next blow of the night wind. In his element, the seething feeling crawling up his skin seems to recede, gasping for a breath and a reprieve from the torment he consciously unleashed upon himself.

He most definitely doesn’t _want_ to know how and where he’s touching her, certainly doesn’t _need_ to hear their matched labored breathing. And absolutely _hates_ the idea of catching the sound of that stupid name drawled from her lips.

… Is he undressing her right now, though? Or just simply hiking up her skirt, unfazed by the rest of their clothing? Do they have time to savor each other, or are they eagerly grinding and rubbing against one another to relieve themselves of that unbearable tension? Maybe he would be taking his sweet time, slowly walking her to her bed, untying the bow at the collar of her blouse on their way, unbuttoning it one at the time.

Would she, in the wakes of passion, be desperately pulling off his clothes as well? Or rather driving her small hands under his shirt, feeling the plains of his torso? How would she look lying atop her bed? Would she go all shy and flustered at the sight of him looming over her, reflexively attempting to cover her decency? Or become even more hot and bothered?

Would she be _begging_ for his cock? 

Gavin wanders away as fast as his mind does, the wind thrusting him further up and up, nearing the edge of her window. The black skies light up in silver hues before a thunder cracks in the distance, and a dreadful thought which just crosses his mind is the only excuse he can hold on to.

What if he’s _hurting_ her? A girl like her needs—no, _deserves—_ to be treated with the utmost loving care. She needs to be cherished, pleased, satisfied to the last bit. She’s not just a random nobody like the blondie at the front gates of the Research Center, and for all he knows, a mere hookup is basically, undeniably, a total disservice.

He must know, he _must._ It’s imperative to know if she’s not being wronged, nothing can possibly matter more than fulfilling her every need and wish, than having every inch of her skin come alive at the touch of his fingertips.

Nothing is more important than explore and worship every corner of her body, than make her yearn for more through the feeling of his mouth closing in on her perked up nipple. Than having her longing for his fingers as they wander south, trembling in sheer anticipation, and him to be rewarded with her ecstatic cries as his thumb rubs on her clit, index going lower onto the source of her heat and slickness at the apex of her thighs. 

Such a girl like her deserves to be _thoroughly fucked_ , filled to the very brim, held tight and rocked hard against the impending waves of pleasure coursing upon them. She needs her moans and whimpers to be treasured, her every breath and whisper of his name swallowed by his hungry mouth; otherwise it’s wasted, carried away with the breeze, dissolved into nothing.

She has to reach her climax once, twice, thrice, and then start all over again until every fiber of her being can hold no longer. Until her lungs and throat and swollen cunt are screaming instead, falling down from heaven only to be brought up again, pleading to reach the stars once more.

Just one more time. Just—

“ _Aah—!”_

Gavin can only manage to scramble for a small ledge on the wall before losing control, swinging and hanging in midair as another thunder rolls closer. Holding back an awful sob, his breath comes in ragged as a sudden dizziness threatens to take over, but succeeds in retaking a grasp on the wind, coming to perch beside the windowsill.

He swallows hard, eyes stinging, and braces himself before what’s to come.

And there she is, in the safe confines of her bed, under a mess of cream-colored blankets with a foot poking out, her back to the window and appearing to be clumsily searching for her phone.

… Alone.

Really, completely alone.

The dim light of her phone screen illuminates a portion of her face, looking flushed for some strange reason, rubbing her forehead with the back of her small hand. Yet judging by the scrunching of her face and the crumpling of her sheets, something does seem to be off.

However, watching her starting to type miraculously brings Gavin back to his rational senses, scrambling away from his hidden spot before she so happens to hear him. Turns out, he did so just in the nick of time, his phone ringing with a new message. Forcing himself to breathe, he takes a moment before expecting the worst.

 **Gingko Girl (10:38 PM):** I just read this, I’m so sorry Gavin! I’d wanted to take a quick nap but I guess I was really exhausted.

 **Gingko Girl (10:39 PM):** OMG I slept for three hours! What a mess…

Landing on the terrace of her building, he rubs his eyes before proceeding to reread the message one more time for good measure. He barely can believe his _massively idiotic_ self, barely able to truly process what in all hells just happened.

Had he really almost just brought himself on the verge of insanity… for a nap?

 **You (10:42 PM):** It’s okay. Sounds like you were truly tired.

 **Gingko Girl (10:44 PM):** _[… is typing … ]_

 **Gingko Girl (10:46 PM):** Not like I had any rest though.

That, Gavin just confirmed it with his own two eyes. However, it’s not like she will ever find out—and she will _absolutely not,_ for all that’s sacred in the world and holy to him.

 **You (10:49 PM):** Bad dream?

 **Gingko Girl (10:51 PM):** Yeah. A nightmare. 

Could it be one of those strange dreams she once mentioned to him about? Concern takes a grip on him, unsure what to say or do. He believes himself capable of protecting her from most harms, yet frustratingly, he can’t protect her from her own mind, or her evol. To make it worst, he’s not very good at giving words of comfort either.

 **You (10:55 PM):** Want to talk about it?

 **Gingko Girl (10:57 PM):** I need to figure it out first, I guess…

 **Gingko Girl (10:59 PM):** _[… is typing … ]_

 **Gingko Girl (11:03 PM):** I wish I’d seen you instead…

He stammers at that, reading the last line several times just in case his abhorrent imagination would be pulling a trick on him once again, even going as far as to close and reopen the inbox in case the app had glitched or something. Lost for a proper reply, Gavin paces about the dark balcony; the humid smell of incoming rain brought by the wind deeming it the very last of his concerns. 

In fact, he could use the rain right now—he could be washed anew, and have the water clean all his filthiness away. For what is worth, that’s a welcoming change of pace.

 **You (11:10 PM):** It’s okay. Really.

 **You (11:11 PM):** Something’s come up anyway.

 **Gingko Girl (11:13 PM):** This late at night?

 **Gingko Girl (11:14 PM):** Please take care, Gavin…

And just like that, with merely those four words, the frantic pounding of his heart comes to a steadier pace, his breathing following as well.

 **You (11:20 PM):** I will. You take care too. And try getting some rest, yeah?

 **You (11:25 PM):** Feel free to message me if you can’t sleep.

 **Gingko Girl (11:27 PM):** What? Are you sure?

 **You (11:29 PM):** Yeah. I don’t mind.

The first drops of rain fall onto the screen, and Gavin takes a seat at the edge of the balcony, legs swinging aimlessly, waiting on the storm.

 **You (11:32 PM):** It’s gonna be a long night for me anyway.


End file.
